Finding Faith
by dreamer one
Summary: An accident leads Jack to the meaning of life questions Daniel is always asking. S/J established.
1. Chapter 1

Finding Faith

**Chapter One: Life is Seldom Fair**

"Jack, there's been an accident."

General Jack O'Neill had been on the receiving end of these words all too often in his lifetime. They never meant anything good. This was no exception.

Despite his years in the field, suffering through his own horrendous injuries and worse yet, watching his fallen comrades, today's accident had no precedent. Nothing could have prepared him for this.

His wife and unborn child were victims of a potentially fatal motor vehicle accident. Daniel broke the news to him as gently as he could. Not that Jack gave him much time. As soon as Daniel mentioned Sam was being taken to the Air Force Academy Hospital, Jack hung up the phone. Without further ado, the two-star General, dressed in full regalia for a top level meeting at the SGC tore out of the mountain like a house afire. With no consideration of the gaping airmen he left in his wake, much less the offended bureaucrats, Jack made a beeline to the elevator with nary a word of explanation. On the way, he passed Hank Landry in the hall, mouthed "Sam, hospital", but that was all the time he could spare. He had to get to her.

Reaching his vehicle on the ground level lot, he ripped the keys from his driver's hands. Jack wasn't about to trust this trip to a green airman. He was going to break the speed limit by a good deal; the responsibility for the consequences would be all his.

Sam had been hurt before, many times. He'd rushed to her side, fearing the worst and sat through the tortuous waiting on numerous occasions over the years. Still, this was different. There was another, totally helpless, innocent life involved. Their child, their unborn child, the one they'd waited for, that child's life hung in the balance as well. His mind rebelled at the thought he could lose either one of them. _Not now, after all this time, after everything they'd been through. _

The jarring sound of a rapidly approaching police siren jolted the distraught husband from his morbid thoughts. Now fully alert, he glanced in the rear view mirror to find a police cruiser on his tail, clearly signaling him to pull over. It was not a surprise; it seemed he was going ninety on an expressway marked sixty-five.

Figuring a high speed chase wouldn't help Sam, Jack reluctantly slowed down and pulled to the side of the highway. Rolling down his window, he waited impatiently for the police officer to arrive. He didn't have to wait long.

"License and registration," the twenty-something officer barked out as he had so many times before.

Anxious to be on his way, Jack had the documents ready and dutifully turned them over.

"Officer, can we hurry this up?"

"General O'Neill is it?" the younger man asked. "I'm sure you have someplace very important to be, Sir, but this is a serious offense. At the speed you were going you could kill yourself or someone else." The officer was hardly in the mood for some big wig driving around like he owned the highway. Then he looked at the man's face more closely. No doubt about it, General or not, this fellow was distraught. He looked like he was ready to have a stroke.

"I realize I was speeding and the danger involved," Jack said calmly. Losing his composure wouldn't help anything, he realized. "My pregnant wife was in an accident. I'm on my way to the hospital. Please, anything you can do to help me get there would be appreciated."

OoOoOo

Ten minutes later, with a police escort, Jack arrived at the Air Force Academy Hospital. Without delay he made his way to the emergency department. As soon as he walked through the door, he was greeted by the barely controlled chaos normally found there on a typical Friday night.

Stopping momentarily to catch his breath before speaking, he began to search for Sam.

"I'm looking for Colonel Samantha Carter," he began, "Samantha O'Neill … I mean … where is she …?" _So much for a commanding presence that will get me the answers I need, _he thought.

"Sir, are you a relative?" a crisply attired Air Force nurse inquired.

"I'm her husband," Jack replied, struggling to contain his anxiety.

"I see, General," the nurse acknowledged, finally taking in the stars on his uniform. "Colonel Carter is in surgery. I can arrange for you to speak with the admitting physician."

"Surgery for what?" Jack demanded.

A white coated man in his mid-thirties interrupted. "Excuse me, General, I'm Dr. Werner. I triaged your wife about half an hour ago. I think I can answer some of your questions."

Jack followed the younger man into a small consultation area. What he heard chilled him to the bone.

"The paramedics tell me it took twenty minutes to free your wife from the wreck," Dr. Werner began. "I'm afraid her injuries are severe."

"But she'll be alright?"

"I can't promise anything, Sir," the doctor admitted. "The Colonel has a broken pelvis and a closed head injury. She was unconscious when she arrived."

"And the surgery?"

"We need to relieve the pressure on the brain, stabilize the pelvis and … deliver the fetus."

_The fetus,_ Jack thought. Sam was only six months along. It was too early, much too early to deliver a healthy newborn.

"But the baby …"

"I won't lie to you," Werner said. "It's touch and go for your wife. She'll have a better chance once the fetus is delivered, but we can't be sure how she'll respond. As for the ….baby, well, at best, he'll be extremely premature."

_At best_, Jack thought. _At worst, they could both die._

"Are you alright, Sir?" Dr. Werner asked. Jack's distress was obvious and he looked old beyond his years.

"Oh yeah, peachy," Jack spat. "You told me my wife and baby might die. How do you think I am?"

"Sorry, Sir," Werner replied sheepishly. It wasn't often he'd had the responsibility of giving this kind of news to an Air Force General.

"No, I'm sorry," Jack recovered. "It's not your fault. How long till we know something?"

"At least another hour or so," Werner estimated. "Can I call someone for you?"

"No," Jack said. "I'll be fine."

OoOoOo

He didn't have to wait alone.

When Dr. Werner led Jack to the waiting room, he found Daniel was already there.

"Jack, they wouldn't tell me anything," Daniel said, rushing to his side. "How is she?"

"In surgery," Jack replied. Without elaboration Jack made his way to a nearby chair and dropped into it. "The doctor said … he said she might not make it."

"Oh, God," Daniel exclaimed.

"I doubt God had anything to do with this, Daniel," Jack protested flatly. "If there were any kind of "god" this would never have happened."

Daniel stopped and looked at his friend. He didn't want to imagine what would happen to Jack if he lost Sam or the baby.

"It's not fair," Jack whispered, almost to himself. "Sam was going to see Mary."

"In prison?" Daniel questioned.

"Yeah," Jack answered, shaking his head. "That woman sets out to wreck our marriage, and Sam wants to visit her. She said she didn't want Mary to feel alone."

"Because she knew her as a kid," Daniel assumed rightly, "Jonas' little sister."

"Yeah," Jack said.

"That's the kind of person Sam is," Daniel said. "She cares about people."

"Exactly," Jack said. "A good person, doing something good and this is what she gets for it." Emotionally exhausted, Jack leaned back in his seat and loosened his tie. It could be a long wait. "They have to be alright, Daniel," he said, staring intently at his friend. "They have to be."

TBC

* * *

A/N: This is a sequel to Finding Truth. I'd planned to write it a couple months back, but I'm only now getting around to it. Hope it's not too late. I believe the story can stand on its own, but of course I'd love it if you'd go back and read the original story too!

I'm planning no more than 3-5 chapters for this story. I hope you like it.


	2. Chapter 2 No Answers

"_A good person, doing something good and this is what she gets for it." Emotionally exhausted, Jack leaned back in his seat and loosened his tie. It could be a long wait. "They have to be alright, Daniel," he said, staring intently at his friend. "They have to be."_

* * *

Chapter 2: No Answers

Waiting had never been his strong suit. Yet it seemed Jack would be doing a great deal of waiting in the near future. It would be far from easy.

He'd been sitting quietly with Daniel for nearly an hour, running the past few days over in his head. Finally, he had to know.

"What the hell happened?" Jack demanded.

After the heavy, worrisome silence of the past few moments, Daniel was startled by the sudden vehemence of Jack's question. But he couldn't blame him. He'd tried to tell him about the accident when he'd called, but Jack hadn't given him the chance.

"There was a drunk driver, he ran a light," Daniel said, repeating what he'd been told by the police. "His car plowed into Sam, hit the driver's side door. She was pinned under the debris for a while before they could free her."

"And they couldn't reach me?"

"Your phone was off," Daniel said, realizing Jack already knew this. He'd always turned it off during high level meetings. "I was Sam's next contact."

"They should have been able to reach me," Jack said sadly. This simple statement was only the beginning of Jack's self-flagellation. Fortunately, he was interrupted by a member of the hospital staff.

"General O'Neill?"

A middle-aged woman dressed in a plain navy suit, festooned with the appropriate hospital identification approached Jack. Thinking this might be someone with news, he leapt to his feet. Daniel wasn't far behind.

"How is she?" Jack blurted out.

"I'm sorry, I don't have that information, Sir," the woman answered. "My name is Jean Marie Sullivan, I'm the chaplain here."

Jack nodded. Regarding the woman for a moment, he took a deep breath and walked away. The last thing he needed was clergy. If he heard any pious platitudes from her or anyone else right now, he wouldn't be able to guarantee their safety. In Jack's mind, the best response was to ignore her.

As he sat down, he realized Ms. Sullivan had followed him. Standing at a discrete distance, she continued where she left off.

"I'm here if you need someone to talk to," she said calmly. Jean was no stranger to frightened, traumatized family members. She knew when to stay low key and how to avoid intruding on intensely private moments where she wasn't wanted. After more than ten years in hospital chaplaincy, most of it spent in acute trauma situations like this, she instantly spotted Jack as a no nonsense, take charge kind of guy, one less than enthusiastic about accepting emotional support from a stranger.

Slowly Jack looked up and responded without much enthusiasm.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said.

Jean smiled and walked away. She intended to keep herself abreast of his situation as the evening progressed, as she did with all the families waiting for news of loved ones. Once they knew the score, many people suddenly felt the need to vent to an objective person. Often if that person represented a spiritual connection of some sort, their presence was even more appreciated.

OoOoOo

Fifteen minutes later, a slim young woman in blue surgical scrubs made her way from the surgical suite to the waiting area. Her face was grim, her step full of purpose and resolve. Jack's heart clenched up painfully and he steadied himself for the worst. After shooting a helpless look at Daniel, he stood up to meet the messenger. But she gestured for him to be seated again and pulled up a chair of her own.

"Good afternoon, Sir," the woman began. "I'm Dr. Hodges. I'm the chief of obstetrics here. "I've just delivered your son."

Jack studied the petite physician carefully. His heart was pounding in his chest. He wanted to know everything at once. Knowing that wasn't possible, he willed her to continue.

"The boy is extremely small," Dr. Hodges continued. "He had a hard time at first, and I won't lie to you, he has a long road ahead. But he's alive."

"And Sam …?" Jack asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"The delivery was an added trauma for her, I'm afraid," Hodges explained. "She's lost a great deal of blood, but the team was able to stabilize her. Our neurosurgeon, Dr. Willis is now in the process of evacuating the collection of blood that's putting pressure on her brain."

"How much longer?"

"At least an hour," she answered, "possibly more. The orthopedic team is also setting her pelvic fracture."

Jack sucked in a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. If he lost his composure now, he'd be no help to Sam.

"I see," he said. "Then she'll be alright?"

"I can't say for certain," the obstetrician replied. "Dr. Willis will be out to see you once he's finished."

Jack nodded begrudgingly. Then regaining his composure, at least in part, he asked about the baby.

"My boy, can I see my boy?"

"Certainly," Hodges replied. "But you must know they're preparing him for transfer to Memorial. He needs to be in their Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). In fact I have papers for you to sign authorizing the transfer."

Wordlessly, Jack reached for the clipboard Dr. Hodges offered him. Scanning the brief consent for transfer, he signed the document.

"Let's go see your son, General."

OoOoOo

Dr. Hodges had spoken the truth. Jack had no more than five minutes to watch his tiny newborn. Through a pane of glass he watched as a neonatologist and a team of nurses scurried around the small room, finished attaching various tubes and wires, apparently preparing the infant for transport. Before he could fully take it all in, the team wheeled the incubator out into the hallway and directly past Jack and Daniel. Hodges motioned for the lead nurse to stop.

"This is General O'Neill," Hodges said. "He needs a moment with his son."

Jack stood staring into the isolette. The baby was so frightfully small, he was nearly hidden beneath the tubes, wires and padded restraints that surrounded him. His large hands laying on either side of the Plexiglas bubble, the concerned, overwhelmed father stared at his newborn son. Not even able to hold him, he began to feel the impact of grief. The shock of the past two hours shattered, suddenly giving way to the knowledge that life would never be the same. More than that, life might never be what he'd dreamt a mere twenty-four hours ago. Looking at the fragile life cradled in the cold, sterile box, he had serious doubts his son could survive. And now, he was being taken away from him and way from Sam. At least that's how it felt.

"Daniel, go with them," Jack said impulsively to his friend. "Please go with them, make sure they take good care of our son."

"Jack, you need someone…," Daniel began. He didn't want Jack waiting here alone, with Sam's life hanging in the balance.

"I need someone I can trust with my son," Jack clarified, "so I can stay here with Sam."

Daniel nodded. Clasping Jack's shoulder in a sign of support and solidarity, he said, "I'll call with any news, I promise."

"I know," Jack replied thoughtfully. "They'll be alright," he added, ostensibly for Daniel's reassurance but most certainly for his own. Perhaps if he said it often enough his wish would come true.

"Yeah, they will," Daniel agreed. His voice was less than convincing. Jack couldn't blame him.

OoOoOo

Once Daniel was packed off in the ambulance with "Baby Boy O'Neill", Jack resumed his vigil in the surgical waiting room.

The Academy Hospital was a small facility, with no more than thirty inpatient beds and, as Jack had recently learned, no provisions for premature newborns. Sam had been brought here after the accident because it was close and, though small, its trauma service was second to none. The surgical waiting room was a modest sized area, comfortably appointed. Only two other people were currently waiting for loved ones when Jack returned. There was a third person, someone he recognized from earlier today.

Sure enough, no sooner had he taken a seat than she made her way over. The chaplain whom he'd summarily dismissed earlier matter-of-factly helped herself to the seat on his left. She sat quietly for a moment before speaking.

"Has your friend left?" Jean asked simply.

"Yeah," Jack answered, continuing to look down at the floor. He looked up when there was no further conversation from his new companion. Briefly looking at Jean, he continued. "Daniel went to Memorial with the baby."

"Dr. Hodges told me you have a baby boy," Jean said. "Memorial has the best NICU in the state."

"That's what they say," Jack replied.

"And your wife's still in surgery," Jean stated as fact. "Is there anything I can get for you, coffee, anything?"

Jack looked up, truly seeing the genuine compassion in the woman for the first time.

"No, thanks," he said. "I'll sit right here until I can be with Sam."

That elicited a weak smile from Jean.

"I understand," she said. "It's hard to think about anything else when you're worried about family."

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "Do you know what's taking so long?"

"Why don't I see what I can find out," she said.

Jean was gone less than five minutes before she came back with news.

"They're bringing Mrs. O'Neill into recovery."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks to all for reading and for your initial enthusiastic responses.

Please continue to review.


	3. Chapter 3 Surgical Results

Chapter 3: Surgical Results

It was another half hour before Jack was allowed in to see Sam. The neurosurgeon had warned him she was unlikely to regain consciousness for another few hours. He'd been told to expect a relatively slow recovery. Sam, after all, had sustained multiple traumas today, the emergency C-section adding to the extreme physical stress caused by the crash.

She'd lost a great deal of blood and was still being transfused. The Air Force surgeon had been perplexed by his patient's blood values, especially the presence of an unknown heavy metal. He'd been deftly referred to the powers that be and told the reading was "need to know and he didn't need to know". So by the time the usually controlled, somewhat arrogant neurosurgeon had spoken with Jack, he was well aware there was something out of the ordinary about his patient. Unfortunately, that did little to change her guarded prognosis.

Jack knew all the buzz words. Those closely guarded, careful pronouncements, diplomatically worded to ease the pain for sensitive family members. He'd been offered several of those words … hopefully …with any luck … as time goes on … she's a strong woman. Sitting by her bedside, holding her hand, he chose to play those phrases over and over in his head. Clearly that was what medical personnel had in mind, leaving a frightened family member with some hope for a good outcome.

Usually the epitome of self-sufficiency, Jack wished someone was here to hold _his_ hand, much as he was holding Sam's. Not literally of course, and he'd never admit it, but he craved support from another human being as he struggled to maintain his own equilibrium. If only Janet were still alive he'd breathe a little easier. There was no one he trusted more when a friend was injured. Carolyn Lam was due in to check on Sam later this evening, but it wasn't the same. And Jacob, he'd be a welcome companion for both of them. But unfortunately Jacob was no longer here to comfort and sustain either his daughter or his son-in-law. Jack was on his own.

"Wake up, Sam," he said, sotto voice, hoping by some miracle she could hear him. "There's so much to tell you. We have a son. I didn't get to see him very long, but I know we'll both love him a lot. He'll need both of us, so you have to get well."

By the time he'd finished his short soliloquy, Jack's voice was no more than a whisper. He'd leaned down so his mouth was almost level with Sam's ear. Pulling back for a moment, he swiped at his eyes impatiently, determined to avoid the tears that threatened. In the back of his mind, the hardened warrior cried out to him, warning the fearful husband that should he start to cry, he might never stop.

So it was that as daylight dimmed outside the hospital windows, Jack sat quietly with Sam, stroking her hair, swallowing hard to keep the tears at bay and willing her to come back to him.

OoOoOo

It was a long night.

Daniel called on an hourly basis to update Jack on the baby's status. Hank Landry popped in after visiting hours and spent an hour sitting with Jack and Sam. He'd brought greetings and good wishes from Teal'c who was currently off world and unable to be by his friend's side. And of course there had been calls from the NICU asking permission for a variety of necessary medical procedures.

Needless to say, Jack hadn't slept.

At three o'clock in the morning, the march of vigilant nurses monitoring Sam had yet to cease their relentless parade of assessments. This time, two nurses entered the room, accompanied by a tall man in green scrubs.

"Dr. Willis wants Mrs. O'Neill to have an MRI," Sam's primary nurse announced, while the other two began to prepare Sam and the bed for transport.

"It's three o'clock in the morning, for crying out loud," Jack said, stating the obvious. "Don't you people rest?" Tired, frustrated and scared, Jack knew it was a good thing he stopped his rant there. Fortunately, these folks seemed to have a sense of humor.

"Honestly, General," the orderly volunteered, "we really don't rest much. As you may have noticed, time of day is irrelevant here."

"We'll take good care of her, Sir," the second nurse added, painstakingly stowing the catheter drainage bag under the bed. "She'll be back within the hour, promise."

"Okay," he said, his irritable mood relenting just a bit, "I'll hold you to it."

With a grace born of experience, the team spirited Sam away without further ado. As soon as they did so, Jack looked up to see Jean Marie Sullivan standing in their place.

"May I come in?" Jean asked.

Jack surrendered to the inevitable. Besides, he could use the company.

"Why not," he said. "I don't think I'll be getting any sleep tonight."

Jean smiled gently and walked into the room. The bright overhead lights had been turned on when the transport team came for Sam. The chaplain dimmed the lights a little, successfully decreasing the blinding glare of the illumination.

"Thanks, that's better," Jack admitted.

Jean pulled up a chair and made herself at home.

"How are you holding up?" she asked.

"I'm here and I'm not going anywhere," Jack answered vaguely.

Jean nodded and caught Jack's eye for only a moment. Her demeanor was pleasant and undemanding. It was exactly what he needed.

"I'll admit, I'm worried," he added.

"Understandable," Jean said. "All three of you have been through a great deal today."

"That's for sure," Jack agreed. "You know, it's not like we're strangers to this hospital thing. Sam and I, we've been injured lots of times …" Jack's voice trailed off as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"In your work …" Jean supplied. "Were you in combat together?"

"We were," Jack answered, gratefully taking Jean's offer of a less threatening topic of conversation. "We were under fire more times than I can count. Sam was my second in command for a lot of years. She saved my sorry butt on more than one occasion."

"I'd bet you did the same for her," Jean rightly guessed.

"I suppose," Jack allowed. So many life threatening situations ran through his mind; each of these memories reminded him of Sam's heroics. And he wanted this woman to know that about his wife.

"She's incredible, she really is," he said. "Sometimes I think there's nothing she can't do. Seeing her helpless like she is now, it's always been hard."

"So I'm thinking Sam's survived a lot of bad times," Jean supposed.

"You can say that again," Jack replied. "Her medical history is full of close calls."

"Is this time different?"

"Of course it's different," Jack answered after some thought. "We're married and there's a baby."

Jean kept silence.

"I don't know if either one of them is going to make it," Jack voiced softly. "Our baby, he's too tiny."

"You sound frightened."

"You better believe I am," Jack admitted. "I wish there was something I could do."

"Other than strangle that washcloth?" Jean teased.

"Oh that," he said, tossing his current toy to the side. "It's what I do, drives my wife nuts too."

Jean chucked softly. Then without missing a beat, she offered, "I'd be happy to pray with you if you like."

For a moment it was as if everything stopped. The topic of prayer hadn't been mentioned in Jack O'Neill's hearing for as long as he could remember. Or maybe he'd simply ignored it. In fact, the last time anyone had suggested prayer was when he and Sarah brought Charlie to the hospital after …

"No thanks," Jack said as politely as he could. "Tried it; I'm not too good at it."

"You might be surprised how many people say that," Jean responded.

"Right," Jack said, looking off in the opposite direction. "You probably believe in that stuff in your line of work."

"I do."

"So, as long as we're talking here, what kind of work is that?" Jack asked. "You know, are you a nun or what?"

"As a matter-of-fact, I used to be a nun, actually a member of a Catholic religious community."

"There's a difference?"

"There is, but that's not so important."

"How'd you get out?" Jack persisted. He knew he was being a bit obnoxious but it provided a much needed distraction. "I thought being a nun was like being married to God. You know, really hard to file for divorce."

Now Jean did laugh. "Well you're right about that one," she said. "There was a heck of a lot of red tape."

Jack shrugged. "I wouldn't know." Then he continued, suspecting he might have an expert on his hands. "So tell me, why does He do things like this?"

Jean regarded the man sitting next to her. Gone was his uniform jacket and his tie, his dress shirt was open at the neck and looking the worse for wear. The commanding General had departed a few hours back and in his place the tortured husband and father had appeared.

"Why do bad things happen to good people?" she asked rhetorically.

"Exactly," Jack said. "Sam's a good person, the best. She was reaching out to someone who tried to kill her, tried to ruin our lives. That's where she was going when this happened. And this is what that God of yours does! Explain that!"

Jean had heard this heart rending accusation countless times. She gazed at the suffering man with infinite compassion.

"I won't insult your intelligence by trying to explain," she said. "There's no easy answer to that question. We've been asking it since the beginning of time, you know. Churches ask us to believe in a loving God who cares for us. That's all well and good when things go smoothly. But then tragedies like this happen and all bets are off."

"So why bother?" Jack asked.

"I can only answer for me, General," Jean began. "The way I see it, life goes on. And I have free will. I can choose to rage at the losses I've suffered or I can choose the easier, softer way. And for me that involves asking a higher being for help and feeling the comfort that comes along with that request."

"But if he willed all this in the first place …"

"I can't believe the God I've come to know wants us to suffer," Jean said sincerely. "I believe there are things that happen in this world in spite of Him and that He's waiting to comfort us when they do."

Jack thought about this. It was as good an answer as any to what seemed an insoluble question. Still he could never imagine a time where his faith would be anything like this woman's. In fact, there were very few things or people he had faith in anymore.

OoOoOo

Jean sat with Jack until Sam returned. Then with Jack's permission she offered a simple prayer for her healing and Jack's consolation.

An hour later, Sam opened her eyes.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks again to all who continue to read and review this piece. I am particularly interested in your reaction to this chapter. All input is much appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4 Welcome Back

_Jean sat with Jack until Sam returned. Then with Jack's permission she offered a simple prayer for Sam's healing and Jack's consolation._

_An hour later, Sam opened her eyes._

* * *

Chapter 4: Welcome Back

Jean Sullivan left shortly after Sam was returned to her room. With Jack's permission, she'd offered a prayer for Sam's recovery. The words were simple and despite his misgivings they touched Jack's heart.

_Loving God, please hold her in your hand._

To his own endless surprise, Jack found himself repeating these words over and over while he waited for some sign his wife would come back to him. For Jack the juxtaposition of the words "loving" and "God" was jarring, yet their repetition was soothing. And the image they evoked was peaceful.

As he sat quietly, listening to the incessant beeps of the hospital monitors, Jack pictured Sam safe and secure in God's hands, the image conjured by Jean's words. As his mind wandered he considered the possibility that Jean's God could love Sam as much as he did. Though it hardly seemed likely, Jack allowed himself to consider it.

And then, she opened her eyes.

It was five in the morning and one of the nurses had just come in to check her intravenous infusion. Once the nurse left, Jack had returned to her side, taken her hand again and started to talk with her as if she could hear him.

First she'd squeezed his hand. With that small gesture, Jack was instantly wide awake, roused from the deadening fatigued that had descended upon him these past few hours. And then he saw her blue eyes staring back at him.

For a moment she didn't move, her eyes taking in the sight of him, her mind, still groggy from the trauma and the drugs, doing its best to make sense of what had happened. Before saying a word, Sam reached up with her free hand to stroke Jack's face. His free hand came up to cover hers.

They both smiled.

They were tentative, hesitant smiles, expressions of relief and uncertainty. For her part, even as she silently greeted her worried husband, Sam was taking stock of her own body. Despite the pain medications, everything hurt. Her abdomen hurt most of all; it felt tender, achy and … empty.

_Oh God, the baby_, she thought.

Jack squeezed her hand. Sam's free hand found its way to her bandaged abdomen and her face blanched.

Her throat raw and sore from the recently removed endotracheal tube, Sam purposefully ground out the words, "The baby…"

"They delivered the baby," Jack said gently.

Her eyes searched his for any clue as to the baby's health.

"He's very small, Sam. They've taken him to Memorial where there's a specialized unit for… for premature babies. Daniel went with him. He's been calling me all night," Jack said. Then almost as an afterthought, "The little guy's holding his own."

Jack saw the tears pooling in Sam's eyes. They'd both wanted this baby so much. And now, now there was no telling what would happen.

"Sorry," Sam whispered hoarsely.

"Sorry?" Jack repeated. "Sam, there's nothing for you to be sorry about."

She closed her eyes, squeezing his hand as she did so, and fell back asleep.

OoOoOo

Soon after Sam's brief period of wakefulness, the medical staff returned to reassess her condition. They assured Jack that her initial moments of semi-alertness were an important prognostic sign. Even the no-nonsense neurosurgeon appeared encouraged.

Jack left her side briefly when a nurse came in to change her abdominal dressing, empty drainage bags and otherwise complete morning care for her patient.

Once outside the room, he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. In any other circumstance, he'd have been mortified by the sad condition of what remained of his dress uniform. But right now, he could have cared less. What he wouldn't give for a pair of loose, baggy BDUs.

As if in answer to his exhausted request, a familiar face made his way down the hallway towards Sam's room.

"T," Jack greeted the large man, "you're a sight for sore eyes! I thought you were tied up with high level Jaffa-type meetings."

"Indeed," Teal'c confirmed. "I have been leading a negotiation on the new Jaffa homeworld. When I heard of Colonel Carter's accident, I summoned Bra'tac to assume my responsibilities. He is more than competent to handle the matter in my absence."

Jack considered Teal'c thoughtfully.

"You're a true friend, T," he observed sincerely.

Teal'c nodded solemnly and handed Jack the duffel he had slung over his shoulder. Inside was a fresh pair of BDUs, exactly the General's size.

"As I said, you're the best."

OoOoOo

"Hey, I wondered where you went," Sam said when Jack walked back into her room.

Showered, shaved and now decked out in the best fatigues the SGC had to offer, he felt noticeably more human. Still, if he had known she'd be waking up again so soon, he wouldn't have left her side.

"Sorry I wasn't here," he said apologetically.

Sam shook her head. "S'okay," she muttered. "Any word on our baby?"

"I just got off the phone with Daniel," Jack said. "Our little guy's hanging in there. The Doc says they'll have to keep him on the ventilator several weeks. Seems his lungs aren't ready to work on their own yet. But that will come."

The sadness on Sam's face was heartrending. Jack yearned to comfort her. Yet as a mother, Sam had her own priorities.

"We should name him," she said.

Jack nodded his agreement but couldn't muster much enthusiasm for naming a son he feared might not survive. Still, if Sam said so, he'd do it.

"We never did talk about names, did we?" Jack realized. They'd believed they had plenty of time to prepare.

"I'd like to name him after his father," Sam said.

Jack swallowed … hard. She wanted to name this fragile, possibly dying baby after him. He wasn't sure what he thought of the idea. For some reason it made him uncomfortable. But if it was what Sam wanted…

"You really want him to be a junior?" Jack quipped, feigning humor.

"I want him to be the kind of man his dad is," she answered.

"I suppose we can't let the hospital keep calling him 'Baby Boy O'Neill'."

Sam smiled. It was another tentative, restrained expression of questionable happiness.

"John Jr. it is then," Jack said.

"When can I see him?" Sam asked.

"Not sure," Jack admitted. "All I know is the doctors don't want you moved anymore than necessary right now. I'm sure a transfer to Memorial will be in the works as soon as it's safe."

"I want to see our baby," she insisted.

At that moment there was a soft knock on the open door of Sam's hospital room. In the doorway stood Daniel; he was holding a computer case in his arms.

"Hi, guys," he said. Scanning the room for medical personnel who might want to restrict Sam's visitors, he caught sight of Jack's concerned look. "Don't worry," he added. "I left T at Memorial with the baby."

Jack smirked.

"What … in case a squadron of Jaffa invades?" Jack quipped. "Hope you warned the medical folks how our friend tends to overreact to threats."

"Well, I thought you two could check out the situation for yourselves," Daniel replied.

With that curious pronouncement, the ingenious archeologist pulled a laptop out of his case and proceeded to set it up on the bedside table.

"What …" Jack began. He stopped in his tracks as he saw the feed that came up with a single click of the mouse.

It was the NICU at Memorial. And the camera was focused precisely on one isolette centrally located in the main area, under the watchful eye of two nurses. As soon as she realized what was being relayed, Sam struggled to sit up so she could see it better. Her son, the video feed was a live webcam feed of her son.

Her eyes fixed attentively to the seventeen-inch screen, they started to fill with tears. Weighing in at one pound, twelve ounces, the tiniest member of the family was fussing. Despite all the wires and restraints, it looked like he was uncomfortable and fussing. Instinctively, though still medically compromised herself, Sam longed to take him in her arms and comfort him. Jack couldn't help but feel the same way. He was at her side, sitting on the bed, supporting his wife in a semi-sitting position. Together they watched as their son began the second day of his brand new life.

After a few moments of precious silence, Daniel made his excuses. He'd decided not to overstay his welcome or risk the wrath of the hospital staff.

"Hey guys, I see Nurse Rachett coming," Daniel quipped, "I'd better go and relieve Teal'c at Memorial before she has my head. Seriously, I know she'll tell us Sam needs her rest and I'm sure she's right. So I'll take off now."

"Before you do," Jack said, "how did you get that contraption past the hospital administration. You know HIPAA and all that…"

"Need to know, Jack," Daniel said. "If you're good I'll tell you tomorrow. Then bending over and giving Sam a peck on the cheek, he said. "Get some rest, both of you. Tomorrow's another day. Wait till you see what else that contraption can do."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks again for reading and reviewing!


	5. Chapter 5 Newly Born

"_Need to know, Jack," Daniel said. "If you're good I'll tell you tomorrow. Then bending over and giving Sam a peck on the cheek, he said. "Get some rest, both of you. Tomorrow's another day. Wait till you see what else that contraption can do."_

**

* * *

**

Chapter 5: Newly Born

The nurses brought in a cot for Jack that night. They'd tried to persuade him to go home and get a good night's sleep, but their efforts were for naught. There was no way he was leaving Sam, even for a trip to Memorial to see little John.

Sam had drifted back to sleep shortly after Daniel left. Nurses, technicians and doctors wandered in and out the rest of day to check on her, change her position, apply new bandages to her abdominal wounds and adjust the external traction that was in place to help further reduce her pelvic fracture. Despite her rational presentation earlier that day it went without saying she still had a long way to go in her own recovery.

Jack had spent much of the day in touch with the doctors at Memorial discussing John's condition. In fact, he called in a panic at one point when the webcam transmission ended suddenly. One of the NICU nurses calmly explained to him that they were simply following the arrangement they had with Dr. Jackson.

"Arrangement?" Jack asked.

"I'm sure he told you," she answered. "We agreed the camera would be turned off whenever we were performing a procedure on your son or another family was identifiable on the screen. The donors did agree to that caveat."

"Of course," Jack said quickly, "of course they did." He was so going to check this out with Daniel. Then, "So … John, he's okay."

"He's still in critical condition, Sir," the nurse said gently. "But he's a tough one. When will you be coming in to see him?"

Jack hesitated. "I'm not sure."

The nurse had heard that hesitation before. Fear, guilt, denial, there were all sorts of reasons some parents hesitated to enter the NICU and get up close and personal with their fragile premature infants. This poor man had the added restraint of a seriously injured wife holding him back.

"General, I know it seems like your little baby won't notice, but it makes a great deal of difference if he's able to bond with a parent during these first few days," the nurse said.. "It will be important for you as well."

"I'll try and get there," he said noncommittally. "Take care of him."

Hanging up the phone, Jack played his own words back. He must have sounded awful, like he didn't want to see his own child. All he knew was he didn't want to leave Sam and he didn't want to go there alone. He realized that sounded even worse, like he was scared of something. Truth is he was.

OoOoOo

The next morning Daniel was back.

On his way to Sam's room, doing his best to stay under the radar, he all but ran into Jean Marie Sullivan.

"Excuse me," he said. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going."

"I understand," she said. "It happens to me all the time."

Daniel smiled.

"Do I know you?" he asked sheepishly.

"We met briefly in the ER the other day," Jean answered.

"That's right," he said. "You're the chaplain here."

"And you're the O'Neills' friend, the one waiting with the general the other day."

"That's the one," he said. "I'm Daniel."

"Jean Marie," she replied, reaching out to shake his hand. "I'm glad you're here, Daniel. I take it you're on your way to see Mrs. O'Neill. Please give them both my best and I'll be back another time."

"Oh … were you on your way to see Sam …?"

"Don't worry, I have all day," Jean said. "From what I can tell you're a good friend to both of them. But they're restricting visitors, so you go in and I'll stand guard for awhile."

Daniel looked at her for awhile and then said. "I knew there was a reason Jack said he liked you."

OoOoOo

Sure enough, Sam's doctors had restricted visiting by anyone but Jack in an attempt to assure Sam got enough rest. And seven in the morning was definitely before normal visiting hours. Unfortunately, Daniel was due to go off world later today with SG13, so it was now or never and he really had to demonstrate the coolest feature of the jerry rigged webcam for his friends.

"Daniel," Sam beckoned as soon as she saw his friendly face at the door. She was already starting to look more like herself, Daniel thought. Her face had some color to it and her blue eyes had regained a bit of their sparkle. In sharp contrast to the ominous bandages wrapped around her head, her cheerful voice inspired hope and confidence that she would pull through.

"Come in," Sam whispered, waving him in with her right hand.

"You're looking better," Daniel observed.

"Thanks," she replied. "You like my hairdo?" Sam quipped, indicating the nondescript wrap now situated where her golden hair had been.

"Yeah," he said. "The hair will grow back, Sam. You're still here, that's what's important. Hey, where's Jack?"

Sam pointed toward the closed bathroom door.

"He's showering," she said, "something I would love to be able to do."

"Hasn't gone home, huh?"

"Nope," she said. "He won't leave my side, not that I've exactly encouraged him to go."

"I know," Daniel said. He sat down at the side of the bed and took her hand.

"I brought you a little something else," he said. "I thought you might want to talk to Johnny."

"Really?"

"Really," Daniel answered.

As if on cue, Jack emerged from the bathroom. Freshly showered, but fully dressed just in case Nurse Ratchett was around, his hair was still wet and he looked pleasingly disheveled. Sam couldn't help but smile. Still, feeling stronger herself, she worried Jack needed more rest than he was getting.

"Daniel says I can talk to Johnny," she told Jack.

"Daniel …"

"Well there _is_ an audio component to the webcam," he said. "It took Siler an extra day to get it hooked up and working. Teal'c tells me the microphone is now positioned just outside Johnny's isolette. So… you guys can talk to Johnny and he can hear you."

"It won't be too loud?" Sam questioned, concerned she could do something to hurt the baby.

"Nope," Daniel assured her. "The charge nurse and Johnny's

neonatologist approved the decibel level. Besides Siler installed a buffer that makes your voice even smoother than it normally is. It's all been worked out."

Jack shook his head. Far from disapproving, he chuckled pleasantly in recognition of his friend's ingenuity.

"How did you get them to let you do this?" Jack asked.

"Charm and finesse go a long way," Daniel said proudly. "It also helped that most everyone at the SGC contributed toward a sizeable donation to Memorial's pediatrics department."

"Uh huh," Jack said. "So…a big donation from Deep Space Radar Telemetry?"

"Exactly," Daniel said. "Plus the Joint Chiefs, the President …"

"You didn't …" Sam exclaimed.

"I did," Daniel admitted. "What can I say? I believe in using my assets."

"By the way, Danny," Jack said, "did you happen to forget a little thing about disconnecting the webcam?"

"Yeah … oh sorry," the enthusiastic friend spouted, wincing as he realized the fright he'd probably caused his friends. "I forgot to tell you. The nurses said they'd turn off the webcam during procedures. Sorry."

"Well, at least it was me that had the heart attack, not Sam," Jack said. "Hey, all in all it's a great thing."

"Enough talking you two," Sam interrupted. "I want to say hello to my son."

OoOoOo

Sam spent a good fifteen minutes "talking with" Johnny. Her voice soft and gentle, she hardly needed all the special precautions taken to accommodate a premature infant's increased sensitivity to sound. Tears fell as she talked and watched the tiny infant. Speaking with the nurse ahead of time she'd been told her baby slept most of the time and very likely would not show much if any reaction to her voice. Still she was sure the wrinkly little infant turned towards her voice more than once.

When she was done, her face was set in a glorious smile, the first Jack had seen since she'd opened her eyes. She'd certainly had enough trauma and bad news to deal with these past few days, so this was a wonderful gift. Of course, Sam was still itching to see and hold the baby for herself, but there was no way her doctors would authorize her transfer for another week or so. It would be hard, but with Daniel's ingenious gift, it would be easier.

That left Jack with his own dilemma. It was time for him to go see Johnny. Apparently, the nurse Sam talked with before her session with Johnny had given him up, telling the hospitalized mother what a good idea it would be for Johnny's father to make an appearance. And Sam wasted no time agreeing with her.

"Why won't you go?" Sam asked. His reluctance concerned her on a variety of levels.

"It's not that I won't, Sam," he protested. "I don't want to leave you."

"Jack, I'll be fine," she said, effectively calling his bluff. "What are you afraid of?"

Jack hung his head, sat down and took her hand.

"Tell me," she persisted.

"Not sure," he insisted.

"Tell me, Jack."

"I don't want to …"

"Get attached?" Sam guessed correctly. "Don't want to love him in case he doesn't make it?"

"Maybe," he admitted.

Sam looked at him accusingly. It was a look of dismay he'd seldom seen before. She reserved it for the rare occasions she was disappointed in him and those had been few and far between.

"Johnny is the only child you and I will ever have," Sam stated as fact.

"Sam …" Jack interrupted trying to dissuade her from addressing the hysterectomy he'd had to tell her about just yesterday.

"Don't …" she protested. "It's reality. The accident took a lot from us. We still have each other and we have Johnny. I want us to make this work."

Jack knew when he was in over his head. Sam was right, as she was fairly often. He had to risk the pain of loss in order to experience the gift of his son. He could so this, he had to do this.

"Alright," he said. "I'll go this afternoon."

OoOoOo

Shortly after Jack left the Air Force Academy Hospital on the way to Memorial, Jean Marie Sullivan arrived to see Sam. They'd met briefly each of the past two days, but this was the first time Sam was strong enough to actually talk with the chaplain. And with Jack gone, she was glad for the company.

"Jack told me about his first conversation with you," Sam said. "Even he admits he was pretty obnoxious."

"Not at all," Jean said sincerely. "Your husband strikes me as an honest, plain spoken man, who says what he thinks."

"True enough," Sam said. She moaned softly while trying to adjust her position in bed.

"If you're uncomfortable I can call someone, or leave you to rest if you prefer," Jean offered.

"No, I'm fine," Sam said. "I'd like you to stay. I need someone to talk with, someone besides Jack."

Jean nodded. She knew the drill. As much as a person loved someone, there were often things best said outside their hearing.

"I'm worried about Jack," Sam announced.

"How so?"

"He treats me like I'm made of glass," she went on, "but he's suffering too. He went over to Memorial to see Johnny, but he didn't want to go."

"Didn't want to leave you," Jean supposed.

"And he's scared of Johnny," Sam said. "What if there's something wrong with our baby? What if he can't be normal? I don't know if Jack can deal with that."

Jean sat quietly waiting for Sam to continue.

"I know some of the problems early premies have," Sam continued. "They haven't told us much yet, probably because I'm still here, but he could have all kinds of physical problems, and he is so tiny."

"You're afraid too," Jean gently observed.

Sam nodded, her eyes filled with tears.

"He's the only child we'll ever have you know," she said sadly. "Because of the damage to my pelvis, they did a complete hysterectomy after they delivered Johnny. It was necessary, they said, but it doesn't make it any easier."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Jean said. "It sounds like being a mother is important to you."

"Never thought it would be, until now," Sam admitted. "Now that it's so difficult, now it's the most important thing in the world."

"Doesn't seem fair, does it?"

"No, it doesn't," Sam admitted. "When I was a little girl, my mother used take us to church all the time, especially when my father was deployed overseas. She used to tell my brother and me that God would watch out for us and keep us safe. I haven't gone to church in a long while, but I wish I could believe in that kind of god now."

"What's keeping you from believing?" Jean asked.

"Not sure," Sam said. "Probably some of the same things that stand in Jack's way. You know, he was brought up Catholic too."

"Yeah, the name O'Neill kind of gave it away," Jean quipped. "Sounds a bit Irish Catholic to me."

"More so than Carter, right?'

"A smidge."

They both laughed.

"And here we are …we weren't even married in a church…"

"So …" Jean prompted.

"So…it's hard to believe we're still …" Sam's voice faltered and she looked away, suddenly at a loss for words.

"Wanted … cared for …" Jean suggested. "Maybe God doesn't know you anymore because you haven't been to visit?"

"Something like that," Sam admitted, suddenly feeling relieved Jean understood.

"Would you do that to someone you loved?"

"Course not… but…"

Jean waited and she knew Sam got the message loud and clear.

"Sometimes having faith is hardest for people who grow up with organized religion of some sort, like you and your husband obviously did. It's almost as if you fail to follow the 'rules' to your own expectations, you give up completely."

Sam smiled. It seemed she wasn't the first to feel this way.

At that moment the webcam sprang to life once again. The screen was filled by Jack's masked face and gowned figure.

"Hey, Sam," he said blithely. "Check out this get up they've got me in."

Dressed in the requisite attire needed to cut down the risk of infection, Jack could have passed for a surgeon entering the operating room. In fact he was preparing to touch his son for the first time.

While Sam and Jean watched, a nurse unlatched a small opening in the isolette, just large enough for Jack to insert his gloved hand. With the nurse's encouragement, he reached in and began to stroke Johnny's back. Barely touching him at first, Jack held his breath as he touched the small, fragile boy, careful to avoid the wires and tubing attached to the vulnerable body. He was real. His newly born child was real. And he was alive.

After a moment, Jack turned towards the camera. Speechless, his moist eyes said it all. And back at the Air Force Academy Hospital, Sam breathed deeply, closed her eyes and thanked whatever powers truly existed that Jack had made a beginning with his son.

TBC

* * *

A/N: (In the series, Sam's dogtags identify her religion as Catholic.)

Thanks for continuing to read. Your reviews are greatly appreciated.

I'm planning one or two more chapters for Finding Faith. Possibly, there will be a follow up story about baby Johnny, depending on interest. Let me know.


	6. Chapter 6 Child's Play

Chapter 6: Child's Play

One week after Johnny's shockingly unexpected birth, his mother was well enough to be transferred to Memorial.

Though still in need of rest and intensive physical therapy, Sam seemed to be out of acute danger. In her typically persistent style, she'd managed to convince her caregivers she was strong enough to tolerate the twenty minute ambulance ride from the Academy Hospital to Memorial. She'd gone long enough without being able to see her baby first hand, let alone touch him. Her arms ached for the baby she'd carried the past six months. Having him so cruelly ripped away from her robbed her of the experience of a natural delivery; now she wanted to bond with this fragile new life in any way she could.

Jack stayed close by during that first week. His support never wavering, he was, as always, a source of strength and encouragement. He'd finally gone home to sleep the final two nights, largely at Sam's insistence. The last thing Jack wanted to do was give her cause to worry about his health. She had enough on her mind as it was.

Since Jack's first visit with Johnny, his attitude seemed to shift. It went without saying that a strong connection had been forged with the infant in those initial moments, one that was reinforced each day since then. To Sam's delight and envy, Jack left her side once each day to visit Johnny at Memorial. Although those visits typically were no more than fifteen minutes standing by the isolette, watching and gently touching the baby, it was better than nothing. Those fleeting moments went a long way toward solidifying the bond between father and son.

Jean Sullivan stopped in at least once a day. Sometimes she sat with Sam while Jack was at Memorial; at other times she listened to the both of them pour out their fears. The chaplain offered words of comfort, understanding and hope.

Sam appreciated her words and her presence. And she suspected in his heart of hearts, Jack did as well. She and Jack would probably never be church goers. She didn't even know for certain whether they'd choose to have Johnny baptized. Whatever happened, Sam knew these days of worry and cautious joy had taught life lessons that would stay with her a long while.

Sam remained a patient at Memorial for two weeks, most of her time involved in extensive physical rehabilitation allowing her to regain her independence and ambulate relatively easily with minimal use of assistive devices. During those weeks she contented herself with twice daily visits to the NICU where she sat by Johnny's isolette for all too brief periods of time, talking to him and gently stroking him with one hand through the controlled environment of the high tech incubator. All the same, she longed to hold him in her arms.

One week after Sam went home, her wish came true. The doctors determined that the baby was now able to regulate his body temperature enough to manage some time outside the isolette. Moreover, his overall medical condition was improving. Although he would likely need ventilator support for another few weeks, his prognosis for survival was good. Still, no one was making the O'Neills any promises with regards to the very real possibility of developmental delays and physical disabilities.

OoOoOo

"Are you ready?" Jack called from the kitchen.

"Absolutely," Sam said, emerging from the bedroom, supporting most of her weight on crutches. From long experience with multiple injuries, Sam was a pro with crutches, maneuvering with well balanced grace and placing little stress on her lower extremities.

"You look beautiful," Jack said. His loving, appreciative eyes roamed over her body taking in the stylish powder blue jeans and the soft matching V-neck sweater. The color of her outfit accentuated the blue of her eyes and her hair was starting to grow back, a lovely shade of blond.

"Who, me?" Sam teased. "In this old thing? With my buzz cut?"

"Yep," Jack replied. "I'd say our son will be suitably impressed."

She beamed him an appreciative smile.

"I hope so," she said. "I can't wait to finally hold him."

"Yeah," Jack agreed, "me too. It'll be nice to see the little guy out of that box."

Sam nodded

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Jack asked.

Swallowing hard, she averted her eyes before responding.

"What?" Sam questioned rhetorically. She knew exactly what he was asking.

"Do you think he'll be alright, you know, normal…," Jack clarified needlessly, wincing as he said the word "normal". He regretted his choice of words even more once he saw the reaction on Sam's face. She suddenly looked stricken.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just can't … I'm not sure how…"

"I know," she replied. "When we talked about having children, we assumed they'd be healthy. Now, we can't assume anymore. Johnny might have some serious problems."

"Or not," Jack said. "We need to stay positive, not borrow trouble …"

Sam smiled.

"It's pretty hard to do," she said. "But you're right of course."

Sam and Jack made a conscious decision to avoid further "what if" discussions at least for the time being. It sufficed that they shared each other's fears for their only child. Like every other set of parents they'd have to wait to see what the future had in store and meet the challenges when they were presented. The O'Neills had never been ones to run from challenges. They didn't intend to start now.

"Come on," Jack said. "Johnny's waiting."

OoOoOo

Johnny's medical team had arranged a private visiting room for the infant and his parents. His isolette was moved into the adjoining sterile, but much quieter, less crowded room. Furniture consisted of a hospital settee and a simple rocker.

To Jack's dismay he was once again decked out in scrubs and a surgical mask. Sam was treated to the same outfit. But any outfit would have been worth it. Suited up and scrubbed, they entered the visiting area and found Johnny and his nurse waiting for them.

The baby had gained nearly one pound during the first four weeks of his life. He was still tiny, but Sam convinced herself he was a little less fragile. And now, without the strong lights of the NICU, he wasn't wearing the eye protectors he so often sported on previous visits. His eyes were open and though still mildly sedated, he was looking around.

"Have a seat," the NICU nurse said. "I'll bring Johnny to you."

With that the nurse slowly opened the isolette and carefully swaddled the infant, taking care to avoid dislodging any of the tubes and wires still attached to the small body. Then she brought Johnny to his mother.

Sam had gotten used to seeing all the medical paraphernalia surrounding her son. Now, sitting in the rocker with Jack next to her on the settee, she could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She was surprised. The fearless US Air Force Colonel felt the unexpected anxiety of the moment. This was her baby and she was finally going to hold him in her arms.

As the nurse carried Johnny to her, Sam froze for a moment, fearful she might do something to hurt this helpless new life, pull out a tube, dislodge a wire. Almost as rapidly as the feeling of fear surfaced, it left. And in its place came a powerful flood of maternal feeling.

With Jack's eyes fixed on her, Sam lifted the little bundle in her arms. He was so light. She lifted him closer to her face, working to get as close as possible. And at that moment Johnny looked directly at her.

It was magical for both of them. Sam gasped as the baby fixed her with his eyes. He was so beautiful. Whatever the future might hold, he was wonderful, a miracle of creation, wrought by the love of his parents. In her eyes he was perfect, just waiting to grow into the full term baby, then the little boy he was meant to be. And at that particular moment, she knew he would do exactly that.

Though the lower half of her face was covered by the surgical mask, Sam was sure Johnny could see her smile reflected in her eyes. For now that would have to be enough. Soon he'd be able to see her face. Soon she'd be able to count his fingers and toes at her leisure. Soon he'd be able to breathe on his own. He'd get there. With his small weight in her arms she was certain of it.

"You're wonderful," she said softly.

"Yes he is," Jack echoed, his hand coming over to gently touch Sam's arm.

Sam looked up from Johnny long enough to see the tears in Jack's eyes.

"You okay? She asked.

He nodded.

"More than okay, Sam," he said. "I'm sitting here with my family."

Sam's eyes beamed her smile to Jack. Through his tears he smiled as well.

"And the two of you are more than any man could ask for," Jack added. "Whatever happens, we'll be good together, all three of us."

Sam couldn't have agreed more.

The End

* * *

A/N: This completes Finding Faith.

Thank you to all the faithful readers and reviewers who have followed the story.

I have thoughts for a follow-up which would focus on little Johnny's first year, and touch on some of the struggles he and his parents would face. Meanwhile, I look forward to reading all of _your_ stories!


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